


Golden Red

by imaginationtherapy



Series: The Kaleidoscope Project [9]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Beauty - Freeform, Bipolar Disorder, Manic - Freeform, Nature, Poems, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationtherapy/pseuds/imaginationtherapy
Summary: You can't every love me, you can't ever long to always be with me, unless your soul is golden red.





	Golden Red

You can’t understand me,  
You won’t ever find me,  
You can’t ever love me,  
You won’t ever need me,  
You can’t ever want  
To always be with me.  
Only if, unless, of course  
Your soul is golden-red:

When that autumn sun comes dancing down  
Setting the crisp air a-fire.  
When bonfire flames illumine the night  
As ghostly winds whip ‘round:  
The leaves flutter down, allowing no sound  
But that which only my soul can hear.  
And calls me to a place I know—  
But one where I’ve never been—  
And it’s then that I know  
In October-cloud grey,  
My soul is golden-red.

You can’t understand me,  
You won’t ever find me,  
You can’t ever love me,  
You won’t ever need me,  
You can’t ever want  
To always be with me.  
Only if, unless, of course  
Your soul is winter-cold moonlight.

When that misty moonlight shines,  
Reflected off darkened bare branches:  
It etches those boughs like metal on snow.  
As chill wisps catch frozen-white diamonds,  
The snowflakes tumble playfully down,  
Calling my soul to come and play:  
Come to a white-cold winter land,  
That’s warm with love and light!  
And it’s then that I know  
In December holly-green,  
That my soul is winter-cold moonlight.

You can’t understand me,  
You won’t ever find me,  
You can’t ever love me,  
You won’t ever need me,  
You can’t ever want  
To always be with me.  
Only if, unless, of course  
Your soul is late July green.

When the dry hot breeze ripples the water,  
Stirring late summer fluttering leaves.  
It caressing the grass like a long lost lover,  
As ripening wheat sways with the corn.  
The storm clouds gather on the horizon,  
Calling my spirit to wander in fields:  
Fly to a place no one has gone  
That’s wild and free and warm with summer!  
And it’s then that I know  
In dry dandelion-yellow,  
That my soul is late July green.

You can’t understand me,  
You won’t ever find me,  
You can’t ever love me,  
You won’t ever need me,  
You can’t ever want  
To always be with me.  
Only if, unless, of course  
Your soul is misty spring blue.

When the warm rains of spring come calling,  
Turning the woods to foreign-grey swamps,  
Flooding the low-lying greenest of pastures.  
As the trees begin to awaken,  
The life-giving breeze of warmer days  
Calls to my heart to come out and dance:  
Sing with a song no one else knows  
With a warmth in the wetness of new-coming life!  
And it’s then that I know  
In the age-old browns of the oaks,  
That my soul is misty spring blue.

The colors dance and whirl and tease.  
Bold and beautiful- they know their names,  
And call me and hold me true to my God  
Who fashioned me from that rainbow—  
Left me wild as a willow:  
With sky in my eyes and autumn in my blood.  
He decreed that you can’t ever catch me  
Nor ever hold my heart  
Unless you hold the mountain in your soul  
Unless your soul is golden-red.


End file.
